


What Gets Left Behind

by atlanticslide



Series: Scarred [1]
Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Adultery, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-16
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-03-13 08:16:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3374306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atlanticslide/pseuds/atlanticslide
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s the second time, up in Aaron’s bedroom, when they’re angry and frantic and alternating between shoving each other away and drawing each other nearer, when he notices them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Gets Left Behind

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place early on in their relationship, around mid-to-late December.

It’s too dark the first time for him to really see anything, so that’s probably why he doesn’t notice them then. Well, that and the fact that he’s letting another man touch him, curl his fingers around Robert’s dick and stroke him and it feels amazing and rushed and he has to block out everything else but Aaron’s hands and mouth and tongue in order not to let thoughts of Crissie creep into his mind as well as that voice that sounds distinctly like his father that turns up every time he does something he knows he should probably think better of.

It’s the second time, up in Aaron’s bedroom, when they’re angry and frantic and alternating between shoving each other away and drawing each other nearer, when he notices them. 

He pushes Aaron down onto the bed, on his back, and Aaron resists for a moment, gripping Robert’s arms tightly, but when Robert digs his fingers into Aaron’s ribs, Aaron gets this blissed out look on his face, skin flushing dark, and when Robert pushes him this time Aaron lets himself be pushed.

Aaron, Robert’s found, seems to like being pushed around. It gives Robert a thrill, arousal flooding through his stomach.

He pushes Aaron’s shirt up as he shoves his tongue into Aaron’s mouth, and his fingers skid over the raised skin littering Aaron’s abs but he’s too wrapped up in the feel of Aaron’s tongue against his own to really notice.

“Suck me,” he tells Aaron, and there’s that thrill again when Aaron shoves him away and then flips them over so that he can push Robert back against the bed and tear open Robert’s trousers.

Aaron sucks him down fast, all sloppy, wet heat, and he’s so good at this that Robert can’t stop himself from picturing Aaron doing this to other people, other men, getting on his knees and letting men use him, showing him what to do.

Robert groans at the thought and at Aaron’s tongue pressing against his slit. 

Aaron pulls up to whisper harshly, “Shut up.”

And he should. He needs to be quiet; who knows who else might be about. It’s so hard, though, when Aaron’s got one hand around the base of his cock and the other digging into his hip, mouth wrapped around him and encouraging him to move, to thrust. All of this is so, so wrong - another man, cheating on his fiance, he shouldn’t be doing any of it, but it feels so good, he doesn’t ever want to stop. He wants to lay here with Aaron’s mouth on his cock forever.

It can’t last forever, of course, because life is cruel, and with a final drag of Aaron’s lips up Robert’s dick, he breathes Aaron’s name out harshly in warning and Aaron pulls off him so that Robert can shoot off against his stomach with a grunt.

Aaron’s kissing him, Robert realizes a few moments later, and pressing his own erection into Robert’s hip, and fair’s fair, so Robert pushes him off and over onto his back, then shoves at Aaron’s shirt until it’s pulled off and gets on top of him even though he’s still feeling sluggish and languid from his orgasm.

He only means to be quick, to get Aaron off, to maybe get his mouth on him even though he’s never really been crazy about going down on men, but he finds himself running his tongue across Aaron’s collarbone and pressing his lips against the center of Aaron’s chest and generally dragging the whole thing out.

By the time he works his way down Aaron’s chest to his stomach, Aaron is panting hard and staring down at him slack-jawed, mouth red and wet, and it’s almost enough to bring Robert all the way back right then. Aaron’s got one hand gripped on the pillow above him and one around his dick that he moves to Robert’s hair when Robert gets closer, twisting until pain sparks through Robert’s head.

Robert stops and glares at him. “You trying to pull my hair out?” 

Aaron closes his eyes and loosens his grip. “Sorry,” he mumbles, not sounding sorry at all.

“Do that again and you’ll be taking care of this yourself.”

“Said I was sorry,” Aaron tells him again, eyes still closed and head tipped back as Robert licks, quickly, up his chest. 

Robert moves down to bite him, lightly, on his hip in response, and that’s when he sees them and stops short, hands skittering across Aaron’s hips.

There’s a scattering of them across Aaron’s abdomen and stomach, long, thin scars, the skin raised distinctively so that Robert can even count them up, and he wants to touch them, run his fingers over them, but he’s suddenly afraid to make a move. He wonders if they hurt. He wonders how old they are. 

Aaron must sense his hesitation, because his hand is suddenly tight again in Robert’s hair, pushing and directing him downwards, and Robert lets him, filing the scars away in his mind for later.

It doesn’t take long once Robert gets his mouth on him - they were both too keyed up by the time they even got up here, and Aaron seems to get off on being pushed around, which Robert is also filing away in his mind for later. Robert works his tongue against the underside of Aaron’s cock and digs his nails into Aaron’s hip, and Aaron jerks up with a startled moan, not quite loud enough to be of any worry. Robert smacks him lightly on the hip anyway, sucking hard as he does, and Aaron jerks up again. Robert smiles, as well as he can, around Aaron’s dick.

Later, after Aaron’s shot off and he’s slouched back against his bed with an arm thrown over his eyes, looking like he’s not planning on moving for a while and like he doesn’t care that his jeans are halfway down his thighs with his dick still hanging out, Robert thinks about the pain thing, and how Aaron seems to like it, and those scars, and it starts to freak him out a little thinking that Aaron might’ve let someone do that to him during sex or something, or maybe done it to himself. Or maybe they had nothing to do with sex at all. 

It’s all a little too much for what’s supposed to be an easy fling. So he grabs his jacket and shrugs it on quickly, checking to make sure his keys haven’t fallen out of his pocket as he heads for the door.

He turns back before he leaves, finds Aaron watching him now, hands moved down to do up his jeans.

“Right…” Robert starts, suddenly uncomfortable. He’s never known what, exactly, to say after a quick, anonymous fuck like this, and it’s doubly hard when it’s not actually all that anonymous. 

“Check there’s no one around before you go out,” is all Aaron says, giving him a long, steady look, because he’s impossible to read, and Robert nods and then turns to crack the door open. Seeing no around, he slips out without another glance back.

-

“How’d you get them scars, then, an unfortunate yachting accident?”

He doesn’t quite regret the words when they fly out of his mouth, but it’s not as satisfying as he expected to see the hurt and anger in Aaron’s eyes, the way his face goes hard like he wants nothing more than to deck Robert right there in the middle of the bar.

Still, Robert won’t just sit there and put up with being called pathetic by someone the likes of Aaron, someone who’s got a constellation of scars dug into skin that, if his reaction to Robert’s words is anything to go by, he did himself. Someone who dragged Robert to a flipping gay bar, as if they’re some sort of couple out on a date.

He doesn’t feel any guilt for leaving Aaron sitting there, too busy fuming over yet another person giving him a lecture about how he should feel about Andy.

-

The guilt comes later.

They’re in the old barn, and despite the saying, a roll in the hay isn’t really particularly comfortable, but at least it’s private and they can be as loud as they want. Robert’s got about an hour, and he fully intends on taking his time now that Aaron’s finally quit talking about Adam and their flipping business. 

He gets Aaron’s coat off and he’s working on Aaron’s neck the same time as the zipper on his hoodie - black, so much black, it’s quite weird, really - and Aaron’s into it, fisting his hands into the back of Robert’s jacket and smiling at him when Robert comes back up for a kiss. Aaron doesn’t seem the type, from what Robert knows of him so far, to smile easily, and it does something to Robert to see it.

“You need a shave, mate,” Robert sighs as Aaron kisses his neck. “Gonna give me a burn with that shit on your chin you seem to think is a beard.”

“Jealous you can’t grow one yourself?” Aaron replies before biting down gently on Robert’s collarbone. His hands move down to grab Robert’s ass and Robert feels so damn good right now.

He pushes the hoodie from Aaron’s shoulders and moves to kiss Aaron again, swiping his tongue over Aaron’s lips briefly before pulling away. “Hey, I’m just thinking about your burgeoning taxi business is all. Between your stubble and Adam’s monstrosity, you expect people to be driven around by a hobo-lookin’ fella and a bloke who looks like an extra from the movie _Witness,_ do you?”

He runs his tongue over the stubble along Aaron’s neck, and Aaron sighs and lets him for a moment, digging his fingers into Robert’s ass.

“What in the hell is _Witness_?” Aaron asks, softly, after a moment. 

Robert pulls back to look him in the eye. “You don’t know _Witness_? Harrison Ford, what’s-her-name, that girl from Top Gun, Amish murder thriller?”

Aaron stars blankly at him.

“Oh, mate, we’ve got to update your movie collection,” Robert tells him, taking a moment to run his thumb over Aaron’s lower-lip. Aaron’s pupils grow wide, his eyes a little unfocused, at the touch, and Robert smiles, satisfied with himself.

“Alright, whatever, we’ll have a girly movie night sometime,” Aaron says, grasping Robert’s shoulder tightly to draw him in again. “Just shut up about it now, will ya?”

Robert lets himself be kissed then, skimming his hands down Aaron’s back and then up under his shirt to feel the warm skin there. He loves Chrissie and he loves _women_ , breasts and thighs and soft skin and long hair. But he loves this too, the rough flesh and hard muscles, the cock pressed hard against his, and Aaron specifically, his hair and his cold eyes and the way his breath feels against Robert’s mouth and his stupid stubble

Aaron moans into Robert’s mouth when Robert thrusts their hips together, and shoves his tongue gracelessly into Robert’s mouth. Robert’s jacket is long gone, no idea when they got that off, and he moves to grip Aaron’s shirt because taking their time or not, he wants Aaron naked now.

He holds the hem in one hand but Aaron grabs him, pulls away from his mouth suddenly and holds his wrist. Robert tries again with his other hand, and Aaron bats him away.

“No,” Aaron says, low, his eyes staring Robert down.

Robert grins, confused. “I’m just trying to - ” he starts, swiping a thumb over Aaron’s stomach under his shirt.

“No,” Aaron repeats. He looks away, down at Robert’s hands held in his own. “That stays.”

Robert tries again to touch him, gets his fingertips against the skin of Aaron’s abs and feels one of the scars and suddenly it clicks. 

“You don’t have to - ” he starts, but Aaron cuts him off, pressing in and kissing him hard, nearly biting.

“Shut up,” Aaron tells him after a moment, shoving his hands down Robert’s trousers, and that’s about all the conversation Robert can handle for the moment, so he lets it go and lets Aaron get him naked, lets Aaron get his own jeans off, lets himself be pushed back against the blanket they’ve tossed on the hay bales, lets Aaron do whatever he wants because Robert’s got a feeling that Aaron’s sudden shyness with the shirt is down to him and his stupid comment from the other day and he doesn’t want to feel guilty about that. So fine, Aaron can have whatever he wants for the moment, especially as it seems what he wants is to get his mouth on Robert.

-

“Tell me about them,” Robert says later, when they’re laid back against the hay, cooling off and quiet for a while. He looks over at Aaron beside him and wants badly to touch him, but he keeps his hands to himself.

“‘Bout who?” Aaron asks dumbly, staring up at the barn’s roof.

“Not _who_ , idiot,” Robert says, smiling. Aaron rolls his head around against the hay to look back at him, eyes sleepy, and Robert can’t help the surge of affection that swells up in him. “Them.” He motions at Aaron’s midsection. “Your…” 

Aaron draws back sharply as Robert reaches out towards him, like he’s been scalded even without a touch between them.

“No,” Aaron says sharply, batting Robert’s hand away and shuffling awkwardly on the haybale.

“I was just wondering about - ” 

“ _No_ ,” Aaron says again, and he gets up from under the dusty blanket they’d pulled up to go after his jeans. He’s like a spooked animal all of a sudden, retreating away from a threat. It’s puzzling.

Or maybe it’s not. Robert can feel himself turning red as he thinks about what he said the other day. Maybe he really has spooked Aaron. Maybe he’s embarrassed him.

“Look, it’s no big deal,” he tells Aaron as he sits up. Aaron is doing up his jeans, and it’s a tragedy to see all of that lovely skin being covered up. 

“Just leave it,” Aaron tell him, speaking down to his belt.

“Is it - is like a sex thing?”

Aaron looks up at him, brow furrowed deeply. “You what?”

“You know.” Robert waves his hand around vaguely. “Like, d’you… d’you get off on it or something? Pain?”

Aaron just stares at him, looking furious. But Robert’s never been one to back down from poking a bear.

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed of,” he says, pressing on. “I’m sure there’s loads of blokes out there who’re into being pushed around a little… though those - those scars…” he trips over the word _scars_ , trying and failing not to be too freaked out by the idea of Aaron getting off on something painful enough to leave permanent marks behind. 

Aaron gets in his face then, suddenly and sharply, spitting his words angrily.

“I don’t _get off_ on it, you psycho,” he says, his nose bumping against Robert’s. “Now drop it!”

Robert cocks his head back a bit, putting a little distance between them, and runs a hand through his hair.

“Look, okay,” he sighs, feeling sheepish. He should probably apologize, but he really doesn’t want to, so instead he just says, “I shouldn’t’ve said what I did the other day.”

Aaron’s still watching him, glaring like a frightened, defensive animal, a watchdog waiting for Robert to make the wrong move or show his true nefarious intentions. Robert’s just not sure what it is that Aaron’s guarding. 

“I just want to know about them, is all,” Robert tells him. Then adds, “I want to know about you,” and that seems to do the trick.

Aaron deflates, drops his hands uselessly to his sides and slouches his shoulders, looks away from Robert to glare at the floor.

“It wasn’t about liking the pain,” Aaron says, voice still tense but lost all of the fight in it.

“What’s it about, then?” Robert asks, because he needs to know. He’s got a pain in his gut that feels distinctly like guilt and maybe a bit like concern. This whole thing was supposed to be a one-off, just a bit to take the edge off, and then they did it again, and then they actually started _talking_ to one another, and he doesn’t want to be worried about Aaron, doesn’t want to feel anything at all for him, but Aaron’s face is open and raw right now in a way that he hasn’t been at all since Robert met him, hurt written so easily across his features, and Robert hates it, and hates even more to feel responsible for it.

“It’s not about anything anymore,” Aaron says, voice soft and eyes still fixed on the ground. He balls up one hand in the hem of his hoodie. “It was years ago.”

That doesn’t really clear anything up, but Robert can wait. He’s got at least twenty more minutes before he has to be anywhere. He leans back on his hands and watches Aaron stare at the ground, sweat forming around his temples, like this is harder work than the pounding Robert just gave him.

“You hurt yourself,” Robert says after a few moments of quiet, of Aaron looking like he’s not going to say anything more. 

Aaron looks up then, meets Robert’s eye and sets his mouth, looks almost defiant, like he’s daring Robert to make another dig. Robert won’t give him the satisfaction.

“Why would you do that?” he asks, and he really does want to know. He wants to understand, because it’s such a foreign concept - people kill themselves, people hurt themselves, people throw themselves into dangerous situations all the time, he knows how it goes. But to be confronted with it like this, with the evidence of such deliberate, careful harm to someone he’s trying so hard not to care about, done by the very same… he just can’t get his head around it.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Aaron replies, still with that defiant look. It’s kind of a turnon, that expression, but Robert shoves that out of his mind.

“Try me,” he dares.

Aaron’s quiet for a beat before letting out a long, heavy sigh and looking away again, one hand coming up to rest on the back of his neck as he stares off at nothing.

“You wouldn’t - ” he starts again, then interrupts himself. “I can’t explain it. It was...” He sighs again, looking frustrated with himself. “I was messed up, back then. My head was all over the place. The pain… it just made everything else stop.”

It hurts a little to hear it spoken so plainly, to get the image of Aaron in his head unbidden; of Aaron digging a knife into his skin, carving out these lines… Robert wants to sprint from the barn and not look back, put as much distance as possible between himself and this bloke who would do this to himself, and he wants to grab onto Aaron and touch him and map out each of those scars with his fingers, see just what Aaron’s skin feels like everywhere.

“Everything else stopped,” Aaron goes on, gesturing at his head as he speaks. “And I could just focus on the pain and nothing else and… and I could breathe again. It was messed up, but it…”

He doesn’t finish, shrugs instead and clenches his jaw, done talking, it seems.

It’s quiet for a long time. Robert can hear rain starting to fall lightly outside, some rustling of hay in the corner of the barn; probably a mouse. It feels like Aaron’s words are still in the air around them too, still in his ears. He turns them over a few times in his head.

 _I could breathe again…_ He has no idea what that could mean. Aaron was right, Robert really doesn’t understand it, but it’s pure, naked honesty here between them now and Robert’s thrilled and terrified all at once. Aaron’s like a guard dog, and Robert gets it now, what he’s guarding - himself.

Robert’s going to hurt him in the end. It’s inevitable. They’re too attached already, far more than they should be for a casual fling, and when it all ends it’s going to be Aaron’s who’s left by the wayside. He doesn’t like it, but it’s the way it is - ultimately, it’s Chrissie he wants to spend his life with; Aaron was never supposed to be more than a fling, and despite that voice in the back of his head that sounds distinctly like his father, Robert’s never been much good at staying away when there’s something he wants. And he’s always wanted more than he’s supposed to have. 

But, much as he’d like to be able to be totally casual about this thing between them, he really doesn’t like to see Aaron hurting and guarded and tense like this.

So before he can think better of it, he says, “I didn’t go to my dad’s funeral.”

Aaron blinks, and then gets that angry/confused look on his face, with his brow furrowed deeply and jaw set. 

“I watched from a ways back, watched them bury him,” Robert goes on, staring at Aaron staring back at him. “But I couldn’t make myself go down there.”

Aaron’s glaring at him full on now, his eyes dark. Robert barrels on, before Aaron can interrupt as Robert’s sure he wants to do, and before Robert can lose his nerve. It’s been a long time since he’s given much thought to that day, and his chest is painfully tight with the memory of standing alone in the cold, gray drizzle as his father was put into the ground.

“I wasn’t there the last few years of his life,” Robert continues quietly, looking away now to stare at the hay strewn across the ground around them. “I disappointed him so many times, and then I couldn’t even bring myself to go bury him. Do that one last thing for him.”

Aaron makes a scoffing noise and when Robert looks back up, Aaron shrugs, his hands balled up in his pockets and shoulders hunched.

“So, what,” Aaron says, words dripping with attitude. “That supposed to make me feel better or something? You not goin’ to your own dad’s funeral?”

“No.” Robert shakes his head. “Just. You told me something about you. I’m telling you something about me.”

Aaron goes quiet at that, the anger falling away from his face. He chews on the corner of his lip and, for once, looks like he’s at a loss for what to say, and much as Robert likes Aaron when he’s blustering and spitting mad and running his mouth off, he likes this version of Aaron as well, knocked off balance and listening to what Robert has to say.

“No one else except Andy knows about that,” Robert tells him, which might not be exactly true - who knows what Andy said to everyone after catching Robert on the edge of the village that day. But as far as he knows Andy’s never told anyone.

“What, not even Vic?”

“Victoria thinks I was stuck in Canada without a passport and couldn’t get back.” Robert shrugs. “Least, that’s what I told her afterwards. I’ve never been too keen on telling her that I couldn’t come bury our dad because… because…”

“Because why?” Aaron asks. He’s still standing with that same hunched up, defensive posture, but his voice is quiet now, calm. “You were scared?”

Robert blows out a long breath and searches through his memory, feeling unusually honest. “Dunno, really. Suppose so. Just couldn’t face them all.”

Aaron’s looking at him with those eyes, soft now and unrecognizably concerned, and Robert can’t deal with that on a number of levels, so he puts on a small smile and tells Aaron, “C’mere.”

Aaron’s brow furrows again and Robert can see his fists ball up in his pockets once more.

“Come _here_ ,” Robert repeats, making his voice stern, and it’s not too surprising when Aaron obeys, taking a few small steps forward. When he’s in arm’s length, Robert reaches out to grab him by the belt and pull him further in.

He needs to see them again, wants to touch them and taste them, and he wants Aaron to let him.

He gets his hands on the hem of Aaron’s shirt before Aaron grabs his wrists, sucking in a sharp breath. Robert can see his stomach heaving as he breathes from where Robert’s got his shirt pulled up; he’s nervous. Robert wants so much for him not to be.

“Let me,” he says, voice low, as he looks up at Aaron standing over him. They stare at each other for a long moment, Aaron biting his lip again in a way that messes with Robert’s head, and Robert wants this so badly. He knows he can’t force it, but he’s desperate for Aaron, and he lets his fingers drift out to brush against Aaron’s sides, hoping Aaron will get it, get how hot he is, how much Robert wants him, scars and all.

Aaron gives him a jerking nod, his mouth fallen open just a bit in that tempting way, and he helps this time when Robert pushes his shirt up, pulling his hoodie off along with it so that Robert can finally see all of him. 

He stares at Aaron’s stomach and abs for a long time, contemplates the scars, his hands still grasped on Aaron’s hips. He brushes his thumb over one of them, feeling the raised skin against his own. Aaron’s shaking a little, his skin jumping under Robert’s touch like this is his first - well. His first roll in the hay.

Robert looks back up to meet his eyes. “Do they hurt?” he asks softly. 

“No,” Aaron replies, just as soft, and Robert’s got a quick flush of relief. He doesn’t want Aaron to hurt. 

Despite the quiver of his muscles, his eyes are heavy-lidded and dark. His tongue darts out to lick his lips and Robert is suddenly so damn turned on. He has to touch more, so he spreads his fingers across Aaron’s stomach and rests his palm against Aaron’s abdomen, leaning forward to press his mouth against the skin in front of him. Aaron’s breathing turns harsh, audible. His hands grab onto Robert’s shoulders.

Robert lets his tongue out to drag along one of the scars and Aaron shudders and rocks back on his heels, putting a fractional amount of space between them.

“Robert,” he whispers, just barely loud enough to be heard. He puts one hand on top of one of Robert’s resting against his stomach. 

Robert looks up to find Aaron staring down at him, face flushed.

Aaron stares down at him. “Don’t,” he says. Robert stares back up at him, swallows, rubs a thumb back and forth over Aaron’s hip.

He gets it, sort of. Everyone’s got scars - even Robert, much as he hates ever admitting it. Aaron’s are just more visible than most people’s. But they’re not all that he is; they’re not the only part of him, not all that Aaron wants seen of himself.

So Robert nods and leans forward to press a kiss against Aaron’s chest as his hands go to work on Aaron’s belt. Once he gets Aaron’s jeans down he gets right to it, taking him in quick and hard, and Aaron lets out a loud moan as Robert sucks him. 

Robert pulls back so that he’s got just the head in his mouth and can look up more easily, watch Aaron’s eyes fall closed and his head tip back. He kind of wants to say something to Aaron, something cheesy about how gorgeous he looks like this with his mouth open and wet and his chest heaving as he breathes and tries not to thrust too hard into Robert’s mouth.

Instead, Robert flattens his tongue against Aaron’s cock and licks slowly up, smiles when Aaron groans, and then takes him in again.

“Fuck… Robert…” Aaron sounds strangled, desperate, and Robert loves it. He strokes his hands up and down Aaron’s hips, indulges in being able to see and feel every part of Aaron, and takes his time sucking him down, taking him in as far as he can. This time when Aaron slides his fingers into Robert’s hair and then yanks a little too hard, Robert lets him.

He can feel Aaron’s fingers tightening on his hair, running down the back of his head and then brushing over his ears as he works his mouth on Aaron’s cock, just as Aaron breathes out, “Rob-Robert, I’m - ” and Robert takes that as warning to pull off. He fists Aaron quickly, looks up to catch his expression - eyes clenched shut, mouth open and red and wet like he’s been biting his lips - as he comes in Robert’s hand. 

He does up Aaron’s jeans for him as Aaron pulls his shirt back on. They’re both quiet, preoccupied. Aaron looks a little sleepy, which Robert tries not to find endearing, but he dutifully takes Robert in hand - fair’s fair, after all - and wanks him quickly, without much finesse or care. Doesn’t much matter though; Robert gets off quickly, letting the pleasure from Aaron’s fingers on his cock build fast and easy. Not the best orgasm of his life, but he pulls Aaron down to face-level and kisses him for it anyway, brushes his tongue slowly, almost languid against Aaron’s and sighs into it.

Aaron breaks the kiss and stares at Robert for a long moment that feels too much, too heavy, so Robert looks away in search of his shirt and says, “Best get going. Chrissie’ll be wondering where I am soon.”

The thing is, he really doesn’t want Aaron to hurt. He doesn’t want to be the one doing the hurting. It’s all but inevitable, though. It’s better they don’t get any closer, don’t talk about these things, just stick to fucking and leave it at that, but Robert can’t help wanting just a little bit more, wanting to _know_ more. 

So he brushes past Aaron and gathers his clothes up, reminds himself that he needs to keep his distance so that he doesn’t turn around and do something stupid like hug Aaron or something else equally ridiculous.

“Right,” Aaron says, and Robert does look up at that, unable to discern what that tone is. There’s a lot he still can’t really tell about Aaron. “See you later, then.” 

He doesn’t look angry or hurt or anything else Robert might expect, which is a relief - perhaps Robert really doesn’t have to worry too much about the course of things here - just tired, still, more so than Robert’s ever seen him. 

“I could give you a ride,” Robert blurts out before he can stop himself, then mentally kicks himself for the offer. 

But Aaron just shakes his head. “Nah, you’re alright. It’s not much of a walk up here.” His expression softens, the lines in his forehead smoothing out, and Robert’s trying, he really is, because sex is just sex, it has nothing to do with his relationship with Chrissie, but he doesn’t want to have feelings for someone else.

Aaron gives him a quick nod then, and turns to leave Robert to finish dressing alone in the barn. 

Slacks, jacket, shoes all back in place, Robert blows out a long breath and reaches up to his hair, smoothing down the strands Aaron so carelessly mussed up not ten minutes ago, before heading back out into the world.


End file.
